


how many colors in a rainbow?

by haeni (hanijima)



Series: Grayscale [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Color Blindness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanijima/pseuds/haeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>About, eight million people in the world for one soul mate. The odds are stacked against him and Minseok just wants to love, wants to be loved back, and wants something bigger than colors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how many colors in a rainbow?

**Author's Note:**

> a prequel to Grayscale

_“What does the world look like with colors?” He ponders wistfully, eyes wide like a curious little child. He’s huddled under tons of blanket, the soft pastel color complimenting his skin. It’s a waste he couldn’t see it._

_“It’s wonderful. Minseok-ah, someday, I hope you find your soul mate too, so you can see the world beyond monochrome.”_

_“What color am I?” Minseok cuts in, full of youth and clearly excited._

_“Hmmm, that’s a silly question. You’re made up of different colors. Your hair is a dark shade of brown, though.”_

_“What’s a ‘brown’?”_

_“Brown is uh… How do I explain this? Like the trunk of a tree. That’s brown.”_

_“Oh.” Minseok doesn’t understand, but he nods like he does._

_“It’s confusing if you can’t see the colors. I can’t imagine not seeing these colors anymore. It’s kind of hard to love black and white once someone colors your world. So once you meet your soul mate, cherish them because when they go away, when they…die. The colors go with them.”_

\--

Minseok sits in the middle of the café on one of the plushiest couch he likes. It’s a Saturday, he thinks, taking a sip of his Americano. His planner had a _‘meet Luhan @ the café 2pm’_ earlier when he opened it and here he is, ten minutes early. Lu Han seems Chinese, a foreign sound on his tongue that has him rethinking on taking the guy as his flat mate. 

 

The chime on the door rings and Minseok looks up to see a high school kid walking up to the counter to order. He checks his watch again, and fifteen minutes has already passed and Luhan hasn’t even texted him on his whereabouts. Probably sleeping, Minseok reasons, almost standing up to go order another cup of coffee.

 

“You’re Minseok, am I right?” The high school kid smiles at him, sitting down across him comfortably without even waiting for Minseok to answer. “I’m Luhan, great to finally meet you in person.”

 

Minseok doesn’t know who he even expected with the name Luhan, it’s definitely not this young looking man across from him. He definitely looks seventeen and Minseok’s _thisclose_ to quoting Twilight at him. Luhan smiles easily at him, swirling his coffee with a coffee stick and Minseok knows better than to trust people who do that. (“That’s inhumane,” he scoffed at Baekhyun before, berating the younger man to put the fucking coffee stick away.)

 

He expected the guy to probably grow another head or open an unorthodox eye at him, preferably a red one. Luhan isn’t that bad, Minseok thinks. Once you get over the general awkwardness of a social sloth like him, Luhan pretty much holds the conversation on his own, filling in the gaps of his silence. Minseok likes it light and non personal on his account, so he’s grateful.

 

“Americano is just a hussy drink. It’s basically just black coffee and water. Order black coffee instead or something. An Americano isn’t worth your money.” Luhan says, tapping Minseok’s half empty glass.

 

“I like my drink like that. Don’t judge.”

 

“Me? Judging? Nope. Just giving out friendly advices to my soon-to-be-flatmate.”

 

“What makes you think I’m going to be your flat mate?” 

 

“We’ve been sitting here for almost an hour. The barista’s gotten us two rounds of coffee and you didn’t go off screaming how horrible of a person I am. I’m pretty sure we’re forever, now.” Minseok cocks and eyebrow at him and Luhan nearly falls off his chair, laughing. His face contorts into something weird when he chortles uncontrollably, losing all traces of attractiveness in an instant.

 

“There’s no such thing as ‘forever’.”

 

“You’re such a bitter person, Minseok.” Minseok breaks into an easy smile, extending a hand to him. “Likewise, Luhan. See you on Saturday.”

\--

Luhan moves in with him before the first semester starts. They’ve agreed to split monthly rent on a two bedroom apartment with one bathroom, and while Minseok is busy carrying boxes of his things, mostly filled with ridiculously expensive school books and clothes, he almost topples over a box haphazardly left in the middle of the room. Probably Luhan’s.

 

A loud thud echoes and Luhan runs out of his room, disinfects his wounds and patches him back up before shutting himself back into his room. 

 

That night, with a few more unopened boxes lying around in Minseok’s room (courtesy of Luhan’s ‘manly muscles’) and after a short phone call to home, he dreams of Luhan and his doe eyes and fragile smiles. Which he shouldn’t be doing because he’s just his new roommate.

\--

Minseok lives in a world where everything is plainly black and white. There’s not much to do but wait. Wait until your soul mate finds you and colors your world. Some people are lucky to meet their soul mates in just a few years, but some aren’t. Being doomed to see the world in eternal black, white, and their in betweens didn’t faze Kim Minseok that much.

He’s lived for seventeen years in the same scheme. Black, white, gray, light black, dark black. Etcetera, etcetera. The system, as they simply put it, is the only one responsible for colors. It’s often referred to as a heavenly gift for every individual—believing that two souls are connected, sent to Earth in grayscale and bound to the light and absence of it until they find each other.

\--

Luhan is a great roommate. He never hogs the bathroom, never interrupts Minseok’s Walking Dead marathon-ing, and never questions why Minseok waits for him to come home after his classes end before ordering takeouts for dinner. He also brings in movies he borrows from his friends and occasionally treats Minseok to pizza and chicken, which is nice. 

 

Luhan asks him to watch a movie together in the living room, one day. His roommate coyly pushes a comedy CD in Minseok’s way, only to be ignored. He’s in the mood for some horror flicks, plus it’s his turn to choose the movie. Last time Luhan wanted them to watch a drama and Minseok shudders at the thought of first kisses.

 

“You’re no fun, Minseok-ah. You don’t even like buttered popcorn, like who settles for salty popcorn when there’s butter available?” Luhan teases, and Minseok throws a handful of popcorn at him, belatedly realizing he just vacuumed. 

 

“Shut up, Ashley’s about to get killed in a bathtub.” 

 

“Classic. Very romantic, Minseok.” Luhan gives up, eyes back on the screen. Minseok looks at him like he’s grown another head or two. “What?” Luhan asks, tilting his head a little to the side. He furrows his brows, feeling uncomfortable under Minseok’s heavy gaze, yet Minseok thinks he looks cute like a confused pup.

 

Minseok reels back, shoving the bucket of popcorn on Luhan’s lap and leaving for his room. He might as well study for a physics test tomorrow instead of re-watching old movies.

 

(Truth is, he’s not sure how he can handle Luhan on his own.)

\--

Minseok remembers a kid from middle school, Baekhyun, referring to soul mates as life painters, and it’s apt, isn’t it? They’re the ones who color up your world, like a painter or a crayon. But Minseok can’t imagine anything besides black and white and their in betweens. 

“Total bullshit,” Kyungsoo scoffed at the tender age of sixteen, young and angry at everything. “What if your soul mate is an ocean away from you? What if they’re a gazillion light years away? Will you be color blind forever?”

“Love will find a way, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun sighed, dreamily. “If you were truly for each other, the universe will bend for you one day, and you just have to prepare yourself to take the opportunity before it’s gone.” 

“Bullshit.”

Minseok laughed at them—softly at first—because he didn’t grasp the intrinsic value of it. He’s alright with his sight and lack of color. He didn’t need it that desperately. His other senses work well that sometimes, he forgets that there could be a possible life out of this, out of the same dull black and white, a life he used to dream of.

\--

Winter crawls in on them, and Minseok comes home one day, a few minutes later than usual. Luhan shows him a vase he brought back from his pottery class and he swears he’d put a different flower in it every time the last one wilts. “It’s too keep spring in our apartment, even though outside it’s practically a winter wonderland.”

 

“That’s nice, Luhan.” Minseok says, lying on his stomach. Luhan sits on the couch, careful not to step over Minseok’s things scattered on the floor. His social science diorama isn’t looking too well, and when he makes a grab for the glue gun, Luhan hands it to him wordlessly. Their fingers brush and Minseok fights the sudden urge to recoil. 

 

Luhan notices the look on his face. “Why are you so cold?”

 

“It’s below zero today, what would you expect?” Minseok is sticking out a tongue in concentration, as he glues his little chairs in place. But it’s not the right answer to Luhan’s question.

 

Nodding, Luhan replies. “I thought you didn’t have a heart or anything.”

 

“It makes not falling in love easier.” Minseok whispers, softly so that only he can hear. “Do you need to buy more hot packs or something? I could run to the store later.”

 

“Heartless,” Luhan shouts over his shoulder, almost tripping on his way to his room. Minseok waves him away and only looks when Luhan shuts his door.

\--

He would rather be truly heartless if it spared him of the pain. The pain of rejection and loneliness. His first heartbreak still throbbing like a fresh wound even though it was probably some time ago. 

“Minseok,” the girl said, shaking her head. Her name was Soyeon. He sighs because he remembered how the soft curls of her hair rested on her relaxed shoulders. He remembers how pretty she had been that day when they were on the last flight of stairs that lead to the school’s roof garden. The smell of wilting roses lingering in the back of his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for my soul mate.”

“Of course,” he said. _How many rejections has it been_ , the bitterness crawled up his throat, waiting to be spat. Minseok whispered it, unsure and scared.

“Sorry, I really am. You should wait too, until you find each other. I’m sure it will be worth your while.” He took back the rose and crumpled the confession note he spent hours writing, shoving it in his knapsack, ready to bail.

 

He was about to tell her ‘no, he’s never going to dream of such a thing anymore’ when he saw the hopeful look on her face, hands together as if she’s praying. Praying that one day she’ll find her soul mate and be happy for the rest of her life, like a happy ever after in her world. And so, Kim Minseok swallows his sourness and nods at her, the pang of rejection still making his heart heavy.

\--

About, eight million people in the world for one soul mate. The odds are stacked against him and Minseok just wants to love, wants to be loved back, and wants something bigger than colors. A few more rejections from boys and girls alike, he stopped, angry for even trying anything.

\--

Minseok bumps into Baekhyun almost a month later, as the younger one furiously scribbles on his empty half-empty sheet music in. He asks Baekhyun out for some coffee at a nearby café house to catch up. “How’s music class?” He asks, peering over Baekhyun’s shoulder, only to be disappointed because Baekhyun’s doodling again on his sheet music instead of actually writing some notes. “I see you’re still into getting in trouble.”

 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, these drawings aren’t mine. They’re Yifan’s,” he explains, handing Minseok the paper. “Horrible, aren’t they?” Baekhyun laughs, the fondness evident in his eyes. He doesn’t mean it, but as Minseok looks closer, he might not be lying at all.

 

“Absolutely,” he gives back the paper, cackling as well. “Is Yifan your new boyfriend?”

 

Baekhyun looks around them, unsure, and when he looks back at Minseok he smiles. “My soul mate, Minseok. My painter.” 

 

Minseok squeezes his hand and gives him a congratulatory pat on his back. “That’s great.” He says, he means it, but it sounds so cold and unfeeling when it came out of his mouth. “Please be happy, Baekhyun.” 

 

“I will, thank you, Minseok.” Maybe it would have helped if he didn’t have a tiny crush on Baekhyun a while back. Maybe.

\--

Minseok passes by a small flower shop that day, and orders a rose with its thorns cut. The one Luhan got a few days ago already died, maybe he’ll like this one.

\--

To his surprise, he comes home with dinner from a sushi house nearby to an unfamiliar tall and intimidating man sitting on their couch laughing and bickering with Luhan. “Who’s this?” It comes out a bit rude and sudden, when in fact Minseok’s been standing unnoticed in the doorway for two minutes.

 

“Oh, Minseok,” He scrambles to get up, grabbing the plastic bag in his hands for inspection. “Did you buy me some hot packs? Hey, I thought you don’t eat quail eggs, why did you buy them?”

 

“Hi, my name’s Kris. Luhan’s friend from China.” The accent almost gives it away, even if it’s barely there, Minseok wants to say. He exchanges formalities with him while Luhan got them plates. “Sorry for barging in, I didn’t know I was intruding on your time with Luhan—“

 

“What? It’s nothing. I was just surprised. Luhan doesn’t bring his friends here that much. And he’s completely forgot introductions over food.” Minseok sighs at the sight of Luhan eyeing dinner hungrily as he placed them on the ceramic plates.

 

“He’s a great friend, anyway.”

 

“So Kris, what do you do?”

 

“Student. Taking up Marketing, same college as Luhan.” He grins. “I really want to study art though.” Luhan’s laugh echoes loudly all the way from the kitchen.

 

“He’s bullshitting you. He can’t even draw to save his own life.”

 

“Art is not limited to drawing, Lu.” Kris rubs his forehead in agitation. And Minseok nods in understanding. There’s always abstract art. “How many times am I going to tell you?”

 

“As many times as you can but I still won’t believe you.”

 

They eat dinner on the couch, exchanging stories and hilarious things that happened in one of Kris’ classes like when his Chinese teacher in Management accidentally sat on a tack and cussed so fluently in Korean that the whole class laughed instead of sympathizing. He also mentions the story of how he met his soul mate.

 

“Congratulations,” Minseok says after swallowing his samgyeopsal. Luhan smiles silently in the corner, he probably heard the story too many times. “Who’s the lucky person?”

 

“His name’s Byun Baekhyun. We sat next to each other in Math class and then the whole ‘oh my gosh what is this thing i see, where’s the black and white’ feeling didn’t happen because we were taking exams that time, and I only noticed there were colors when he tapped my shoulder to borrow a sharpener. Sad to say he wasn’t aware until then as well.”

 

“Not really romantic enough for you, Kris? Something you can’t draw about?” Luhan teases and Kris, with his long skinny legs, kicks him on the shin, making Luhan splutter.

 

“Byun Baekhyun?”Minseok cuts in. “You’re Yifan?”

 

Luhan stops laughing as Kris looks at him. He counters defensively, “I didn’t tell him your name!”

 

“You know him?” Kris turns back to Minseok questioningly. 

 

“Baek’s an old friend,” Minseok smiles wistfully. Baekhyun’s a little bit more than that. “You better take care of him, okay?” 

 

“Of course.” Kris smiles a little. He looks besotted at the mere mention of Baekhyun already, and Minseok thinks he’s going to be a little bitter for a while but yeah, it’ll probably pass.

 

Luhan watches them both from a respectable distance, nodding.

\--

“The flower you got last week already wilted.”

 

Minseok jumps in his seat, too engrossed in studying for an exam to notice Luhan knocking. He swivels around in his chair, “You want me to buy another one?”

 

“No… Not really? I was just telling you.” The way he scratches the back of his ear with his index finger makes Minseok’s stomach churn in different ways. He wants to stand up and tuck away Luhan’s bangs off of his face. Minseok stops himself by biting down on his lower lip.

 

 _Control, Minseok. You don’t want to get your heart broken again, do you?_ “You could have told me earlier. I’m busy right now.” He gestures to his notes on the table, a stray sticky note stuck on his arm. Luhan plucks it off with his fingers and places it on Minseok’s forehead. 

 

“Okay. Bye then.”

 

Luhan leaves and he wonders why Luhan even entered in the first place.

\--

There’s a chilly breeze in the room that wakes Minseok up. He shivers in his chair, realizing that he fell asleep on some of his notes. He glances at his scattered notes and picks them up meticulously. And next to the notes of Logarithm properties, he sees a mug of warm coffee. 

 

 _Fighting!_ is scribbled in clumsy English on a piece of paper next to it.

 

So Minseok makes a note to bring a bouquet of flowers later. It’s for the vase. He thinks.

\--

“Do you wanna go out and watch a movie?”

 

“What happened to watching movies at home?”

 

“Kris wouldn’t lend me movies, apparently Baekhyun hates my guts.”

 

Minseok frowns in confusion. “And why would Baekhyun hate your guts?”

 

“I don’t know…” Luhan plays with the hem of his shirt, shrugging. He’s definitely not telling something. 

 

“Okay, let’s watch a movie outside then.” 

 

They end up ditching the movie halfway because it’s all car crashes and explosions, and though Minseok doesn’t want to waste their money, it’s an extremely crappy movie that it pales in comparison to Twilight staring scenes. Luhan asks him to go on a stroll with him downtown to a park before stopping to buy more hot packs.

 

“It’s freezing here.”

 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Luhan punches him playfully on the shoulder as they sat on a vacant bench. There’re only a few people in the park that late at night, oddly couples and some in their work attire who take a shortcut through the park to get home. 

 

“It’s sad that there aren’t any stars in the city.”

 

“It’s the light pollution.” 

 

“Stars would be nice right about now. I could pretend to count them and lose track of time, next thing I know it’d be sunrise.” He laughs, and it sounds sad to Minseok’s ears.

 

“Why do you want to pass the time so quickly? Something bothering you?”

 

“Nothing. It’s just that I get lonely sometimes. China’s pretty far away and all. I used to live in the countryside with my grandparents before and there were so many stars. Then my parents took me back to Beijing and there weren’t as many stars as when I was in countryside. A lot of air pollution too, on top of the light one.”

 

“You’re getting homesick… Do you want to eat some Chinese food tomorrow? I could take you out and we’ll eat whatever you want.”

 

Luhan seems to brighten up at this. “Whatever I want?”

 

“As long as it’s within budget.” 

 

“Thanks, Minseok, really. We might not be really close friends, but you’re quite considerate of me. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought you liked me.”

 

“I do like you. How about you? Don’t you like me?” It’s only when Minseok says the words that he realizes that Luhan means something different entirely. He flinches. “I don’t—wait, I mean…”

 

“You’re great. Of course, I like you too.” And Minseok sighs in relief and as always, misses the true meaning of it.

 

Oh, how stupidly love-struck Minseok is and he doesn’t even know half of it.

\--

Minseok wakes up to an overexcited Luhan bouncing around the small apartment and he watches as the small pompom of Luhan’s beanie hops along with him. They’re going to the beach today, as per Luhan’s request and his own ignored protests of “it’s going to rain tomorrow, the weather man said so” countered with “no it won’t promise, 76% isn’t even a legit estimation compared to my gut instincts”.

Instead of arguing further he just gave in and let’s himself be dragged to the beach on a cloudy day. Everything is grayer than usual outside and it’s cold. Luhan certainly doesn’t think so. His hands are warm, incessantly tugging on Minseok’s wrist. 

“I have an umbrella, just in case,” Minseok announces, to which Luhan growls at him.

“Don’t be silly, Minseok.”

“I’m not being silly. I’m being practical. Why did you want to go here anyway? Nobody’s around.” Luhan doesn’t get a chance to answer him as the sky pours over them. Luhan shrieks and runs for cover and Minseok runs after him because _god damn it Luhan I have an umbrella, where are you running off to_.

 

Wet and thoroughly tired, Minseok plops down next to Luhan. “You’re crazy, Luhan. You could have waited for me, you know?” Minseok’s laugh sounds so breathless even if he just ran a few meters from the beach to the bus stop. 

Luhan doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t attempt to dry his hair like what Minseok is doing. “What would you do if I kissed you?”

“What?” Minseok blinks at him, momentarily stopping his ministrations.

“I asked what you would do if I kissed you, right now.” 

“Why would you?” _Why would he?_

“Before you keep asking questions you better answer mine first.”

“Stop acting like a child.” Minseok wants to tell him that he’s been asking questions all day and Luhan selects what he wants to hear and it’s kind of obviously not fair that he’s demanding it right now.

“I really… so bad… I want to kiss you and taste the coffee you drink through your mouth, to map out every crevice in your mouth with my tongue. I want to know how you work, how you would react to me… to my kisses.” 

 

Sometimes, the black and white life helps you to stop beating around the bush and actually say something more intimate and nicer than superficial words. Words are deceiving, a string of tools that serve different purposes. But at the same time, words are beautiful and even though they’re clumsy, they’re a precaution. “So, what would you do if I kissed you?”

 

He takes a long hard look at Luhan, his words lodged on his throat like some cheap gum he’s chewed on for hours on end. It’s gross. However, he can look over it because good gracious, Luhan looks hopeful and wrecked, eyes glistening as he stared back at Minseok. He’s so beautiful in monochrome and Minseok croaks out, low and breathy inches away from Luhan’s face. “I would… kiss you back.”

 

Hesitantly, Luhan cups his face in his hands, and Minseok closes his eyes when he feels Luhan’s lips on his. It’s warm and soft and gentle. Luhan’s hands on his face and his lips, _goodness gracious his lips_. He forgets shivering, forgets that he’s soaked to the bone and that it’s only a Tuesday and he still have a shit ton of deadlines to meet and instead indulges himself in the moment, in the feeling of Luhan’s mouth on his. 

Luhan sucks on his lower lip, coaxing him to open up, to allow the chaste kiss turn into something more consuming. Minseok does so, permits Luhan’s tongue to roam and lick the roof of his mouth, and he kisses back too, rather dumbly, because it’s his first kiss. He’s only seen people kiss in movies, as lame as that sounds. But Luhan shows no sign of knowing this, moaning when Minseok sucks on his tongue. There’s a pooling heat in his stomach and he feels his face getting hot as well.

“But—I, I can’t.” Minseok says, creating distance between them. “I can’t. Wait, Luhan.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never really done this sort of thing before…”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to get my heart broken again, Luhan. I really like you too, but I don’t want any pain in my life, Luhan. All the possible colors, I can’t give them to you, Luhan. I can’t paint your life with other colors, all I have is myself to give. I’m so sorry.”

“Minseok,” he pulls him into a tight hug. “Minseok, I don’t need colors, I need you. And you’re more than enough for me. I don’t think I can pass you up for something farfetched.” He kisses him again, this time with more fervor than the first one that has Minseok gasping for air when Luhan breaks it.

“I need you so much. So, so much, I can’t even begin to explain it.” Luhan knows how to read him. Luhan understands him. Luhan likes him, and he likes Luhan back just as much, maybe even more. And that’s enough, right? That’s worth more than colors, right?

Minseok nods. 

About, eight million people in the world for one soul mate. The odds are stacked against Minseok. He just wants to love, wants to be loved back, and wants something bigger than colors. 

He’s going to try again. For Luhan.

\--

Luhan, though still in monochrome, is the lightest hue in Minseok’s life. A young boy originally from China, taking up music in South Korea because he didn’t realize escaping to a foreign country to study isn’t a good idea until he actually got to the place.

Luhan tears down all the walls Minseok had taken years to build in a matter of weeks. It’s overwhelming—Minseok’s never felt so happy and elated in all his life. Luhan holds him like he’s afraid Minseok would disappear if he turned around, when honestly Minseok just feels the same way too.

They go on many dates, Luhan gives him a camera on his birthday, just a small one that’s used to take Polaroid pictures. During summer break, Minseok in turn takes him to his special places too: his favorite café first and then into the open fields an three hour drive outside the city just to see stars.

Minseok scoots in closer, and he swears to god, Luhan’s smile shines brighter than the glistening sky above them, he might as well be a star himself. “Do you believe in soul mates?” asks Minseok. 

Luhan pauses, fiddling with their intertwined hands and sucks in his bottom lip in concentration. He has a habit of nibbling on it too, now that Minseok’s taken a closer look. He might just want to nibble on it as well, after he realized kissing Luhan for hours under the open skies wasn’t enough. “I believe in you. Though you’re not exactly my soul mate, so, there’s that.” Luhan laughs, making his face all weird, and he looks like he’s back to their age instead of a porcelain doll Minseok’s grandmother owned back in the province. “I’d like to know what colors are. I’m pretty curious how you’d look in blue.”

“Blue?” Minseok tilts his head up to where Luhan is looking. Minseok doesn’t understand—there’s only black, white, and their in betweens for him. 

“Ah, nothing, really. It’s just something Baekhyun told me a while back. We were going over project plans and he showed me a color book and told me you would look nice in blue and I should totally buy you a blue shirt for your birthday. Oh…” Luhan frowns at himself, and honestly, Minseok doesn’t mind the rambling. “Baekhyun’s rubbing off on me.”

“Even if you got me a rainbow shirt, I would love it regardless.” 

“Rainbows seem nice. If only they aren’t different shades of black arched over each other six times.”

Luhan leans back on Minseok, his head facing the crook of Minseok’s neck. His breath fans on the patch of skin there and Minseok melts into the intimacy of it. He lets Luhan carve a space for himself in Minseok’s life and Minseok curls around him. 

“Stop being so cynical. It doesn’t fit you.” Luhan laughs and he knows Minseok doesn’t mean it, knows that Minseok would never show it—that he’s full of emotions just like everyone claims he isn’t. Minseok isn’t as collected as everyone gives him credit for. He only loosens himself to see more of Luhan’s smiles. 

 

It’s when they get home, sharing earphones all cuddled up in Luhan’s bed, listening to English songs he let Luhan pick, that he realizes something. Confirms something. “You have bad taste in music, Luhan.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

He’s prepared to choose Luhan over colors.

(“Sometimes, it doesn’t have to make sense. Love is something that occurs and when it’s there, you grab it with both hands—color or no color. You have to make that sacrifice.”)


End file.
